Time Has A Funny Way Of Collapsing

I Was Starting To Wonder If I Was Ready To Be A Writer, Not Someone Who Won Prizes, Got Published And Was Given The Time And Space To Work, But Someone Who Wrote As A Course Of Life. Maybe Writing Wouldn't Have Any Rewards. Maybe The Salvation I Would Gain Through Work Would Only Be Emotional And Intellectual. Wouldn't That Be Enough, To Be A Waitress Who Found An Hour Or Two Hidden In Every Day To Write?

There Was No Time For Kissing But She Wanted Him To Know That In The Future There Would Be. A Kiss In So Much Loneliness Was Like A Hand Pulling You Up Out Of The Water, Scooping You Up From A Place Of Drowning And Into The Reckless Abundance Of Air. A Kiss, Another Kiss.

That's Important To Me, To Recommend Books.

To Say It Was A Beautiful Day Would Not Begin To Explain It. It Was That Day When The End Of Summer Intersects Perfectly With The Start Of Fall .... [p.218 Ff.]

I Am A Totally Public Person.